


Kindred 14: The Chosen One

by torturingtaylor (itzaimster)



Series: Kindred Series [16]
Category: Hanson
Genre: Abduction, Brothers, Clones, Conspiracy, Gen, Genetics, Medical Procedures, Military, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-06-25 18:21:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15646332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itzaimster/pseuds/torturingtaylor
Summary: The Hansons receive unexpected help in their showdown with the Russian military, and Walker is left to tie up some loose ends. Carey comes to terms with his newly assigned agent. Alex is again left questioning his place at the labs when Morris disapproves of his use of their resources.





	1. Chapter 1

“What do we do?” Taylor’s eyes darted between his brothers.  
“We need to lose them,” Zac kept his eye on the bathroom door.  
“ _How_?”  
“We should call Morris,” Isaac was rubbing his chin, his other hand on his hip, “if anyone has the kind of firepower we need, surely it would be him.”  
“Morris?” Zac wasn’t sure.  
“When you’re facing Godzilla, you call in Mothra,” Isaac shrugged, “or vice versa.”  
Taylor already had his cell phone out and had dialled for Alex. Hoping he was still awake at this hour he put the phone to his ear.  
Someone tried to open the door to the bathroom and Zac held it shut with his foot while announcing the bathroom was ‘full’.  
“Taylor?” it had taken him a while to answer and he sounded tired.  
“We’ve got a situation,” Taylor didn’t gloss over, “the Russians are here.”  
“What?! Where are you?!”  
“Fassler Hall, close to our studio. Can you send anyone?”  
“Is Isaac with you?”  
“Yes. We’re both here.”  
“Then we don’t know which one they’re after.”  
“Can you send anyone?!” Taylor had done his best to remain composed but was starting to feel his heart race.  
The amount of alcohol in his system probably had something to do with why it hadn’t happened sooner.  
“I’m checking! I’m checking.”  
“I’m calling Dad,” Zac pulled his own phone out.  
“That guy said that Dad sent him,” Taylor indicated the door, “find out why.”  
“Dad sent him?” Isaac frowned, confused.  
“That’s what he said.”  
“What guy?” Alex’s voice came down the phone.  
“There’s someone here that warned me the Russians were here. He said Dad sent him.”  
“Who?”  
“We don’t know, but we’ve run into him before,” Taylor was at a loss, “he knows Jesse somehow.”  
“Jesse?”  
“Alex just tell me what to do we’re in a bathroom right now freaking out.”  
“Sorry! It doesn’t look like there’s any teams close enough to Tulsa to get to you inside of four hours, but I’m going to try something else.”  
“Four hours?!”  
“What’s four hours?” Isaac’s eyes were wide.  
“The soonest anyone can get here.”  
“ _What?_ ”  
“Dad, hey, sorry to call so late,” Zac took a step away from the door, “we’ve got a situation.”  
“I can try and get some military involvement but I need approval from Morris,” Alex was offering, “which means I need to talk to him. Can you hold the line?”  
“We’re not going anywhere,” Taylor assured.  
“I’ll be as quick as I can, sorry!”  
“Ah… guys?”  
They looked toward Zac whose face had gone white. He was holding the phone in his hand despite it still being on call.  
“I think we need to go and talk to that guy out there,” he nodded toward the door.

“You need to give me more,” Taylor took a seat across from him again, already having ended the call with Alex.  
Now that there were less people in the room, Isaac and Zac easily stood by within earshot.  
“How do you know what’s going on? How do you know our Dad? And why did he send you?”  
“How do you know about the Russians?” Zac demanded.  
“And why are you only here now?” Isaac shook his head before Zac suddenly hit him on the arm.  
“I just remembered where I’ve seen him before,” he admitted under his breath.  
“All you need to know,” the man looked between them, amused, “is that I’m here to help. Your Pa trusts me. Morris not so much.”  
“How do you even know about what’s going on?” Isaac frowned.  
“Why did you come to Tulsa looking for Jesse?” Taylor demanded instead, the mention of Morris letting him assume he was somehow involved in the labs, “were you the one he called that night?”  
“When did you meet him?” Zac was looking at Taylor.  
“When did you?” Taylor hit back.  
“On the way back from Dallas. He was following us after I picked up Carey because he thought he was Jesse,” Zac was eyeing the man, who remained silent as they bickered.  
“So if Jesse was your goal, you know what happened to him,” Taylor turned his attention back, “why are you still around?”  
“Like I said, your Pa called in a favor.”  
“Why would you owe him anything?”  
“He made an offer I couldn’t refuse, and no I ain’t telling you what it was. Even if you beg.”  
“What’s your name?” Isaac interjected.  
“Blake Rickett,” he offered a hand, “nice to meet you Clarke Hanson.”  
“…Isaac,” he corrected.  
Taylor’s brow rose at the exchange as Isaac shook his hand. No one had expected that to be so easy.  
“How did you know Jesse?” Zac’s eyes narrowed.  
“We joined the army together as kids. Stayed in touch.”  
“So you _know_ know Jesse?”  
“I _know_ know Jesse,” Blake mused.  
“So Dad basically hired you to look after us,” Taylor was beginning to catch on, “for how long?”  
“I got this call about a week ago. I haven’t stalked you longer than that I swear. I do have a life.”  
“And what do you intend to do about our current situation?”  
Blake stared him down for a moment before smirking and downing the rest of the beer that sat in front of him. He sighed and licked his lips as he looked the empty glass over.  
“Not a bad brew this… Mmmhops of yours,” he blatantly changed the subject.  
“How are we getting out of here?” Taylor leant forward purposefully.  
“Or are we stuck here?” Isaac was equally worried about either option.  
“We’ll get through,” Blake was still staring at the glass, “but I don’t know that you’ll make it back to that studio of yours without help. I was having a beer at the Prairie earlier and could see them setting up in the alley.”  
“How long have they been here?” Isaac frowned.  
“When was that?” Taylor frowned.  
“Just before I got here which would have been maybe ten minutes before Zac spotted me.”  
Zac blanched at that. He thought he’d been subtle enough.  
“You’re still not telling us how we’re getting out of here,” Taylor pointed out as the bartender called last drinks.  
More people promptly left the bar and they suddenly started to feel exposed.  
“I’m working on it,” Blake gave a wink before standing from his seat.  
“Are you packing?” Zac thought to ask.  
“Well it sure ain’t cold enough in here for this jacket.”  
“Where do we aim for?” Taylor looked up without moving, “we can’t go home, they’ve been there and they know it.”  
“Aim for your studio,” Blake cleared his throat.  
“I thought you just said we wouldn’t make it back there,” Isaac frowned, wondering how much Blake had had to drink so far.  
If he’d started at the Prairie and continued drinking at Fassler…  
“I said without help,” Blake locked eyes with him, and Isaac hated to admit that the look intimidated him, “aim for the front door, not the back. I’ll see about getting you boys home for the night.”  
“I don’t like this,” Zac was shaking his head at Taylor.  
“I guarantee I like it less than you do,” Taylor insisted before also standing.  
“Shall we?” Blake put a hand on Isaac’s shoulder, “Zac I’ll need you to take up the rear.”  
“Okay,” Zac didn’t look at all sure.  
“Wait,” Taylor took Blake by the arm before he could take Isaac outside.  
He paused as he tried to work out what he wanted to say. His heart was pounding in his ears and his hairs were standing on end. Everything in him was telling him that if he stepped outside he was going to be thrown in the back of a truck in chains again.  
“You said you joined the army with Jesse,” he frowned, “how far did you go with him? Did you do the same kind of things that he did?”  
“I can’t tell you that,” Blake was straight with him.  
“That’s good enough for me,” Taylor assured, “I mean I don’t know you, but I knew him. I trusted him. So by default-“  
“Tay we have to go,” Isaac knew he was stalling.  
“I know,” he took a breath, “let’s get it over with.”

The four made their way back down 3rd Street to Cincinnati before heading north, Blake walking ahead with Isaac while Taylor and Zac followed warily behind. Blake was stumbling rather erratically which Taylor found in complete opposition to how he’d acted in the bar. Isaac was certain he was too drunk to actually protect them and had started wondering if he’d simply lied about the Russians being there. When they made it up to Brady Street however, Blake suddenly fell into Isaac’s arms in giggles.  
“Whoa! Hey!” Isaac easily caught him as Taylor quickly caught up to see what had happened.  
“You’re so funny!” Blake was laughing and patting Isaac on the chest.  
“What did I say?” Isaac was clueless.  
Knowing already that the circumstances hadn’t called for it, Taylor was still surprised when a figure appeared from the shadows nearby.  
“Everything okay here?”  
It was a terrible take on an American accent and all three brothers knew it immediately.  
“We’re fine,” Isaac suddenly clicked, “our friend here has just had a bit much to drink so we’re walking him home.”  
Taylor on the other hand, had frozen. Zac still a little ways back was already keeping an eye out and had spotted a second man waiting aside.  
Their loose button-up shirts did nothing to hide the contouring of the vests beneath them.  
“Maybe I could help?”  
“Maybe not,” Isaac held out a hand when he came within reach, “we’re fine, I insist.”  
“In that case…”  
Taylor flinched backward as soon as the gun came out but within half a second Blake had twisted it out of his hand and turned it on the man instead. Isaac immediately back off while Zac put himself between Taylor and where he’d seen the second shadow.  
“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” the man was smirking, still assuming Blake was very drunk.  
The Hansons weren’t sure at this point if he were or not.  
The man’s right hand was twitching, and the next movement seemed to happen in the blink of an eye. He went for a knife in his belt, Blake fired a shot into his right shoulder, as he jolted back from the hit Blake threw himself into his chest and took him down to the ground.  
“Tay run,” Zac grabbed him by the arm and threw him forward as the other shadow suddenly emerged.  
Taylor didn’t have time to catch his breath before he saw what Zac had seen and bolted. Zac saw an odd looking gun emerge with him but before he could intervene another shot from Blake went through the second man’s neck.  
“Holy-“ Isaac’s eyes went wide.  
“RUN!” Zac grabbed for him as well before they both followed Taylor’s footsteps.  
They heard two more shots but didn’t look back. Taylor made it to Boston before remembering Blake had warned them not to take the alley and he rounded onto Main St before looking back for the first time. Isaac and Zac were more than a block behind him, mostly because Zac refused to leave Isaac and he was already well out of breath.  
He debated waiting but figured by the time he got the door unlocked they’d hopefully make it. So he made it to the studio door and despite feeling a chill down his spine quickly fumbled with the keys and got the door open in time for his brothers to round the corner.  
“COME ON!” he called out before ducking inside, leaving the door slightly ajar for them.  
They both made it in and Zac slammed the door behind them as Isaac bent over trying to catch his breath.  
“Now what?” Zac kept his eyes to the street, “do we just wait for Blake to show up?”  
“What if he doesn’t?” Taylor was already thinking the worst.  
They hadn’t heard anything after the gunshots, but no one had come running after them either.  
A sudden loud thud from the rear of the studio caught all their attention.  
“What was that?” Taylor was already afraid to look.  
“Stay here,” Zac insisted as Isaac managed to right himself.  
Zac moved further into the studio, not sure if he should turn any lights on or not. When he got to the back he turned the main studio lights on before hearing a smaller version of the same thud coming from the back door. Pausing only to make sure the door didn’t seem to be compromised, he took his phone out as he headed back.  
“I’m calling Alex,” he announced when he met up with his brothers.  
“I’ll call Dad,” Isaac said between breaths, rubbing his chest as he retrieved his own cell phone.  
Taylor’s eyes were back on the street as his mind continued to race.  
Alex hadn’t answered before Taylor pulled out his own phone too.  
“Who are you calling?” Zac frowned.  
Taylor fumbled with it for a moment as he struggled to dial with shaky hands.  
“Natalie,” he admitted.  
He’d barely put the phone to his ear before the glass door suddenly smashed inward.


	2. Chapter 2

Isaac recoiled from the blast, yelping as he quickly pulled two pieces of glass from his left arm. The bloodied glass hit the floor in time for a shadow to fall over them as a soldier stepped in through the broken door.  
Zac frantically grabbed Isaac’s other arm and pulled him back into the studio where Taylor had already backed into. His last glimpse saw a shadow of Blake’s size following the soldier in, and the larger man never made it to the inner doorway.  
“Alex we need help!” Zac said into the phone as he pushed Isaac further down the hall toward the back.  
“There’s nothing I can do!” Alex was fretting on the line, “do you want me to send the cops?! Your Dad’s hours away and the nearest team just left from Dallas!”  
“Shit,” Zac cussed, ending the call and putting his phone away.  
Isaac was precariously plucking more glass from his arm and wincing as each piece came loose. Having lost sight of Taylor, Zac pushed Isaac further toward the main studio. They found Taylor at the back door ready to go through it.  
“Tay that’s not a good idea!” Zac insisted when he saw, making Isaac look up for the first time.  
“Why not?!” Taylor frowned before more gunshots made all of them freeze.  
They’d echoed through the entire building, and evidently come from the front room. Silence followed them. Uneasy at the lack of noise after the gunfire, no one moved.  
Isaac’s phone suddenly rang. While they all recognized the ringtone, they were quick to realize that he must have dropped it when the window was broken.  
“Yeah?” a voice answered it.  
It was Blake’s. Thinking he sounded okay, Zac headed back for the entryway.  
“No it was a close call. Not sure they’re all down yet though,” Blake was saying into Isaac’s phone.  
He stood over the soldier’s body with a gun in his other hand and his eyes on the street. He wasn’t looking toward Zac but Zac could tell that he knew he was there.  
“I’ll get him to call you back,” Blake said before hanging up.  
He quickly used Isaac’s phone to dial another number.  
“Clean up on aisle seven, please and thank you. Got some fresh meat at 209 North Main Street Tulsa and some more in the back alley.”  
He hung up.  
“Where are we at?” Zac asked him as he set the phone on the windowsill.  
“One missing, three neutralized,” Blake reported, “hopefully little Mr Missing has gone running home to Mama.”  
Zac’s eyes went to the floor.  
“Is he dead?” he had to check despite no signs of life.  
“He ain’t making it home, put it that way.”  
Blake pulled out his own phone and casually called for a cab. Zac cautiously approached the windows, keeping one eye on Blake at the same time.  
“You’re leaving us?” he frowned once Blake ended his call.  
“No. But I’m getting that clone out of here alive,” he corrected, “you and the older one have your cars here.”  
“Yeah but Ike’s been drinking,” Zac reminded him.  
“Take him home to your place. We’ll meet back here in the morning. Don’t worry about the mess, I’ll take care of it.”  
Zac eyed the soldier again. There was plenty of blood on the floor but he couldn’t see where it was coming from.  
“I’ll get them,” he offered, leaving Blake to keep watch as he went back into the studio.

“I’ll be home soon,” Taylor promised into the phone, his voice still a little shaky.  
“Are you sure you can trust Blake?” Natalie asked, beside herself after his frantic call not long before.  
“He says he was friends with Jesse, and I know I shouldn’t just believe that straight off the mark but he talks like him and if he has even half the capabilities…”  
“Okay. I get it. Please just get here safely.”  
“Are you _sure_ there’s no one hanging around outside?”  
“The cameras haven’t picked up anything and the extra security Alex gave us hasn’t either.”  
“Okay good. They must have focused on the city.”  
“Cab’s here,” Blake said from the doorway, “you ready?”  
Taylor only nodded. They’d carefully watched Isaac and Zac leave in Zac’s truck, but Blake had insisted Taylor stay inside until their cab arrived. Now it was their turn to leave.  
Blake hid the gun he’d hijacked from the Russian in his belt and stepped outside.  
“We’re leaving now,” Taylor said into the phone, “see you soon. I love you.”  
“Love you too Tay. Be careful!”  
He ended the call and followed Blake. He had the back door open and ready and helped Taylor in before following. At Blake’s instruction he kept his head down until they were out of downtown. But with nothing having happened since the break-in, Blake’s theory of the last soldier having taken off had seemed more and more likely.

“Dad!” Isaac finally managed to get through while Zac was driving, “we’re okay, I’m with Zac and we’re heading to his house. Blake’s got Tay and they’re going back to his.”  
“Glad to hear. I’ll meet you boys back at the studio first thing in the morning. I imagine there’ll be a mess to clean up.”  
“Definitely, though Blake said he’d help,” Isaac shot Zac a glance, “is it going to take you that long to get here?”  
“That’s my estimate.”  
“Okay. Talk in the morning then.”  
“They’re after Tay, we know that now,” Zac said once the call ended, “that means they’ll keep coming for him.”  
“Or maybe they’ll try for someone easier, like Mark or Alex,” Isaac suggested, focusing on his injured arm again.  
“We still don’t know why they want one of them,” Zac frowned, “and it wasn’t like they gave up on Carey because it was ‘hard’.”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” Taylor looked across at Blake warily, “because last time Jesse was with me and it didn’t end so well.”  
“We’re prepared this time,” Blake assured, ignoring the look and focusing on the road.  
“I hope so,” Taylor’s knee was bouncing erratically despite the backseat being cramped.  
“If it makes you feel better,” Blake kept his voice low, even though the cab driver was on the phone to someone and not paying attention, “the guns they were armed with weren’t lethal, they were dart guns. This means they want you alive.”  
“I know they want me alive,” it hadn’t helped at all, “I just don’t know what for. Last time they held us for two months for _nothing_.”  
“I’m sure it wasn’t nothing, even if you didn’t know why you were there,” Blake said thoughtfully.  
“Obviously not if they want us back so bad.”  
Blake’s hand suddenly shot across and held Taylor’s chest not one second before multiple loud bangs were heard outside the cab. The driver in a panic began to swerve.  
“What was that?!” Taylor couldn’t tell what had happened.  
“Tires blown,” Blake was sounding oddly calm for the situation, “undo your seatbelt.”  
Taylor did as he was told as the car came to a halt on the side of the road. Headlights were approaching from behind them. Blake armed a pistol he was carrying as the driver got out to investigate.  
“Should we run?” Taylor’s hand was already on the door handle, his heart pounding again.  
“Stay in the car unless I tell you different,” Blake insisted, “and keep your head down.”  
Taylor took one last look over his shoulder before sliding himself down in his seat. Blake hit his arm with the gun.  
“Take this,” he insisted, already pulling another from under his jacket.  
Before Taylor could decide either way they could hear the driver outside yelling at somebody on the road, asking what had happened to the tires and assuming the vehicle behind them had suffered the same fate. The gunshots that followed proved the other vehicle wasn’t there to help them.  
“Holy shit,” Taylor took the gun, trying not to panic so he could stay focused.  
Blake kept an eye out the back window, watching the shadows moving over the road. The driver had gone down easily and he could make out a further two figures in the dark. Both heavily armed.  
“Damn,” he quickly pulled out his phone.  
“What is it?” Taylor frowned, his expression not filling him with confidence.  
Blake didn’t reply as he put the phone to his ear.   
“There’s more than one. I miscounted,” he said into it, “track our locations _now_.”  
He hung up.  
“Nothing you just said sounded good!” Taylor was panicking after all.  
“Just a little hiccup, nothing to worry about.”  
“Nothing to- Blake how are we getting out of here?!”  
Blake pulled a third gun from his jacket and reached for the door handle without replying. Taylor’s head hit the seat as he mentally began to pray. He wasn’t sure if his hands would still enough to even use the gun if he really had to.  
Blake stepped out to see one of the soldiers standing over the body of the driver, the second back beside the van that had pulled over behind them. The tires were intact which told him the road spikes had to have been removed the moment they’d driven over them.  
“So how do you want to do this, boys?” Blake raised one of the guns, “the easy way, or the hard way?”  
The two men looked between each other, the first turning back with a smirk.  
“Hard way,” Blake muttered under his breath, aiming the first shot at the soldier’s right leg.  
Taylor jumped every time a gun went off, hoping with everything that none of those shots were hitting Blake. He was just debating actually leaving the car and running for the trees when outside seemed to go silent.  
He didn’t want to look. Either the scene was bloody, or Blake had gone down. When he heard the boots coming toward the car – the same exact sound from his nightmares – he knew what had happened. He readied the gun.  
It happened in a matter of seconds. His door opened just before the other side did as well. A hand reached in for him. He fired a shot which sent the soldier recoiling before quickly turning to aim for the one on the other side. But not before a dart hit him in the neck.  
As the second soldier recoiled from the second shot the first had already recovered and reached in. Taylor was grappling for the dart in his neck when he was grabbed by the jacket and dragged out of the car and onto the ground.  
There was another soldier he hadn’t seen before. He was already outnumbered by two. Blake’s motionless body lay on the ground four yards away but Taylor couldn’t tell if he were still alive.  
The moment he hit the ground Taylor struggled to get back to his feet. The soldier who had dragged him out grabbed him by the shoulders and threw him flat onto his back in time for the one from the other side of the car to join them.  
“Препараты работали,” he heard one of them say.  
While another set a backpack on the ground Taylor eyed where the gun had fallen and landed slightly under the cab. He was about to reach for it when he felt his legs very suddenly stop working.  
“What the fuck,” his breath came quicker before going for it anyway.  
One of them stepped on his arm causing a yelp before the other without a backpack reached down to grab him by the hair. Something had been laid out on the ground beside him and as Taylor’s body began to fail him they easily manoeuvred him onto the black material.  
He knew this was what had to have happened to Carey that night and knew he wouldn’t have long left to act.  
“Уберите его с дороги.”  
With one last burst of adrenaline Taylor reached for his phone. But the movement itself took up all the energy he had left. One of the soldiers easily took it from his hand and threw it onto the ground.  
“Торопиться.”  
Something covered Taylor’s face and he felt himself being lifted from the ground. He couldn’t fight back but he hadn’t passed out either. He could barely hear above his pounding heart but he could still hear those boots on the ground…


	3. Chapter 3

Mark reached for the door handle before stopping himself. He couldn’t tell if he should bother even opening the door. With the glass gone he could just walk right in. Not waiting for him to decide, Walker stepped past and just walked right in.  
There were a few pink stains on the white floor but other than that it looked like simple vandalism.  
Not having been inside the studio before Mark had a decent look around as Walker eventually found both Isaac and Zac sitting apart at desks in the office.  
“Morning Dad,” Isaac looked up, otherwise not moving.  
“Good morning,” he stopped to look between them.  
“Tay never made it home last night,” Zac didn’t gloss over it, “and we haven’t heard from Blake.”  
“I have,” Walker admitted, “he was recovered just off the 244. The cab driver didn’t make it.”  
“What about the tracers?” Zac was staring him down.  
As much as he appreciated Blake’s help the night before, he was far more worried about his brother.  
“Alex has been tracking Taylor for a few hours now. He was in the air shortly after he was taken.”  
“And?”  
“And that’s all I can offer. If they land inside of the States we have people ready to move. If they don’t…”  
“Then he’s gone,” Isaac ended for him.  
His eyes were red and his hair was a mess, showing just what kind of toll the night had taken on him already.  
“What can we do?” Zac ignored the lump that had formed in his throat, “last time he was gone for two months.”  
“Not to mention it was Jesse who got him back,” Isaac added, “and we don’t have Jesse anymore.”  
“It was more that Jesse was with them. That was the advantage,” Walker sighed, his hands going into his pockets, “unfortunately wherever Taylor is going, we won’t have that insider this time.”  
Zac jumped as the office phone rang.  
“Don’t answer it,” Isaac shook his head.  
“We can’t ignore everything, this promo starts _today_!” Zac scorned, “what are we going to do?”  
“We have to cancel. What else could we do?” Isaac scoffed.  
“And what reason are we going to give for cancelling?” Zac hit back, “what do we tell people when we cancel a whole tour? And what if Tay shows up next week? If we cancel we can’t just suddenly turn around and say it’s back on again.”  
“What makes you think Tay’s coming back?” Isaac’s eyes narrowed, “and even if he does, what if they come back for him? If all they need is one clone who do you think is the easiest one to find?!”  
“I may have a temporary fix,” Walker cut in.  
“How?” Isaac looked up, “this could be the end of Hanson and you want a temporary fix?”  
“We don’t know that this is the end of Hanson,” Zac scorned, not wanting to fight but not liking where his brother was taking this.  
Walker took a step back into the doorway, looking back into the darkness.  
“Maybe it should be,” Isaac was fuming, “this was dangerous from the start. With all these clones running around it was only ever going to be a matter of time before it came crashing down around us.”  
“So what, you’re just going to wallow in self-pity?”  
Zac jolted when his first reaction was to think it was Taylor standing in the doorway. It took a second or two to realize that it wasn’t.  
Isaac was speechless. It was like his father had just pulled a random clone from his pocket to instantly replace Taylor.  
“What’s the alternative?” Zac broke the awkward silence.  
“Like I said, a temporary fix,” Walker offered.  
“For what?” Mark frowned.  
“Have you ever wanted to be a rock star?” Walker asked him with a straight face.

Taylor felt like he’d be having a heart attack if his blood pressure weren’t so oddly low. He hadn’t been able to see anything since they’d picked him up but he’d heard plenty. He’d long ago recognized the sounds of the plane taking off and had been fighting his paralyzation the whole time.  
But he was tired. The inability to move and lack of outside stimulus making it hard to stay awake.  
He passed out at least once, but he was awake again long before he felt movement. The body bag was opened to blinding light aimed at his eyes and all he could do was close them as tight as he could. He felt himself being moved onto some kind of table before they rolled him onto his stomach. His hands were still bound with zip ties but they weren’t touched.  
Now facing away from the light he was able to open his eyes again. Shadows moved around him but they were focused on the other side of the steel table. He felt one of them take a firm hold of the back of his head and move it slightly before using a finger to trace a line down the back of his neck.  
Taylor’s breath caught in his throat as he realized exactly what they were looking for. As if on cue he felt the sharp pain of a scalpel cutting into his neck and he heard a few drops of blood hit the steel. All he could do was grunt at the pain. It didn’t take long for the tracer to emerge and Taylor heard the metallic crunch of it being instantly destroyed.  
The icy fear in his chest immediately multiplied tenfold. He didn’t even notice his fists clench.

“No,” was Mark’s immediate answer.  
“We can’t just replace Tay whenever this happens!” Isaac’s voice rose.  
“Hey, I did not sign up for anything Hanson related,” Mark’s hands rose in surrender, “I’m only here because these assholes were supposedly after me.”  
“Were they?” Zac frowned at his father, “were they supposed to take Mark instead?”  
“At this stage, I very much doubt it,” Walker admitted, “they were in Tulsa long before we ever were.”  
“Do we know why they wanted him this time?” Zac prodded.  
“No.”  
“I fucking knew it,” Mark was wondering why Walker had even brought him here, “as soon as they said ‘brother’ I fucking knew it.”  
Walker’s phone rang.  
“Think about it,” he insisted as he reached for it, “it’s only an interview. Mr Miller can surely sit there for as long as it takes for you to decide what to do.”  
“Because I have nothing better to do?” Mark scorned as Walker ignored them to take the call.  
“It wouldn’t work anyway,” Zac pointed out, “I mean, it sounds weird to say but you just don’t look like him.”  
“Between the piercings and the tattoos,” Isaac agreed.  
“The scar.”  
“I think there’s even a height difference when you look close.”  
“His hair’s not the same type and I think it’s darker.”  
“The scar’s barely visible anymore,” Mark folded his arms, unsure of why he was suddenly offended.  
“You can still see it. A little bit,” Zac touched his own cheek.  
“You kinda sound different too.”  
“You honestly don’t think that I could pull off your brother?” Mark looked between them.  
“I honestly don’t think that you could,” Zac agreed, Isaac nodding his own agreement.  
“Fucking game on.”

“I’m so _so_ so sorry!” Alex was stressing.  
“It’s not your fault,” Walker insisted, “did you take note of the last available location?”  
“Definitely. Yes. And I was watching the direction they were going. They weren’t headed to any Eastern states airports unless it was off the grid.”  
“A similar thing happened to the others, I believe.”  
“I’m so sorry!”  
“Calm down Mr Bell. Follow their trail and see if you can find a pattern. Compare it to the last known whereabouts of the G series. See if anything correlates.”  
“Right. Yes. Okay. I’ll get right on that right now Sir.”  
“Thank you.”  
“I mean I’ve already tapped into the air space towers in New York but this is very new for me and I’m not entirely sure that I know what I’m doing but I’m _trying_ and I know we’re running out of time but do you think they would even go that far North or would they cut across lower Europe? Should I be watching Baltimore? North Carolina? What do I do?!”  
“Just do your best. No one is expecting you to work miracles,” Walker kept his voice calm, “we’ll find him one way or another.”  
“I really hope so. If this is anything like last time-“  
“Stay focused Mr Bell.”  
“Right. Sorry. I’m so sorry.”  
“Call me if anything changes,” Walker ended the call.  
He returned to find the three in another full-fledged argument.  
“And we’re not just going to let you do it because you say that you can!” Isaac was yelling.  
“You’re saying that you don’t think I could do it, that was your reason,” Mark defended, “I’m telling you that I can.”  
“How do you know?” Zac demanded, “when’s the last time you even watched a video of something we’ve done?”  
“When’s the last time you touched a piano?” Isaac added a smirk.  
“I don’t need to play anything! It’s a fucking interview!”  
“And what are you going to say when they ask you about the upcoming tour?” Zac was interested.  
“I don’t know!”  
“You have about five hours to figure that out,” Walker looked at his watch.  
“We have another interview at KTUL tomorrow morning,” Isaac looked up at his father, “this is not going to work.”  
“I’ll have something else in place by then, if you decide to keep to schedule.”  
“Like what?” Zac frowned.  
“You’ll just have to trust me.”  
Both Hanson brothers fell silent at that. Trust issues were still rife within the family but no one wanted to admit that aloud. Least of all in front of Mark.  
“So are we doing this?” he looked between them.  
Isaac buried his face in his arms. Zac stared across at him, realizing he’d have to be the one to decide.  
“We’ll give it four hours,” he said, “if we don’t get it right then we’re faking a car accident or something.”  
“I was Colin Reis for a year,” Mark scoffed, “it’ll practically be the same thing, just a different level of douche.”  
“This is starting great already,” Isaac looked up.  
“Work with him as much as you can today,” Walker chimed in, “and I’ll get the ball rolling on a solution for tomorrow.”  
“Who was on the phone?” Zac asked as he was about to walk out.  
“That was Alex Bell,” he admitted, “there’s nothing to report yet.”  
“Keep us updated,” Zac insisted.  
“I will,” Walker lied smoothly before turning to actually leave.  
“So,” Mark pulled their attention back, “what kind of bullshit do you want me to talk about? How our fans are amazing and this tour is something we’ve never done before and how Tulsa will always be home to us?”  
“Wow,” Isaac’s brow rose.  
“He’s watched videos,” Zac said under his breath, “okay but first we need to work on your face.”  
“I know how to do that,” Mark assured, “any of your wives leave their makeup around here?”


	4. Chapter 4

Carey froze momentarily when the silent doorbell went off. It had been a week since the intrusion, but after hearing from Alex what had happened the night before to Taylor he was once again on edge. After his initial feeling of dread he eventually managed to pull out his phone.  
It was at least comforting to know that the foreign military wasn’t likely to ring the doorbell at all.  
“Who is it?” Emma frowned, looking up from the couch where she was feeding Max.  
When he saw who was actually at the door the feeling of dread returned.  
“I’ll be right back,” he assured before heading to the door.  
“I don’t like it when you say that!” Emma called after him, unable to follow.  
When Carey made it to the door he opened it and stepped through without stopping for pleasantries. After a quick look around to make sure she was alone he focused on her.  
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.  
“I’m here to check on the baby, can you just let me do my job?” she groaned.  
“I said I didn’t want you near my kids, either of them,” Carey scorned.  
“And if you’d bothered to call anyone, like I had suggested, you’d know that neither you nor I have a choice right now. Everyone’s tied up with this Russian bullshit.”  
“I don’t care,” Carey insisted, about to close the door on her.  
“Wait,” she pushed against the door to stop him closing it, “do you want DIGER’s protection or not?”  
“As of last week it wasn’t much help,” he scowled.  
“You’re not thinking of your kids,” she warned, “look, I’ve been instructed to help you in any way I can while maintaining the collection of appropriate data. I’m under strict guidelines from DIGER and from the government. Have I _ever_ done anything to hurt you or Emma in all the time you’ve known me?”  
“’Known’ is a little rich, don’t you think?”  
“You know what I mean!”  
“What about Colin?” he demanded, “did you ever hurt him?”  
She paused, unsure of how to answer.   
“In what context?” she had to ask, “not in any way he either knew about or didn’t want.”  
“That was not reassuring at all.”  
“What do you think I was doing?!” she was getting frustrated, “I wasn’t a sleeper agent waiting to kill him! Or anyone else, for that matter! I was there to observe, that’s all!”  
“DIGER wouldn’t have put you through that hell just to watch us,” his eyes narrowed.  
“If that’s what you think then you are severely underestimating DIGER. Not to mention the American Government.”  
Carey had to pause at that.  
“I don’t feel sorry for you, and I won’t,” he insisted, “you lied to us.”  
“Occupational hazard,” she rolled her eyes, “and I don’t care. I care about keeping this baby alive and doing my damn job.”  
Carey paused again, knowing very well that Emma wouldn’t like this any more than he did.  
“You could start by giving us your real name,” his brow rose.  
“Sally Gerleman,” she offered freely.  
When his expression didn’t change, doubtful about whether she was telling the truth, she sighed and pulled out both her DIGER ID and her Nevada driver’s permit. She pointedly held them both up so that he could compare them.  
“Fake IDs are easy enough to forge,” he scorned, “but why else would you be here?”  
He rolled his eyes and made his way back into the house. With a grunt she followed.

“Он начинает двигаться.”  
The soldiers hadn’t said much, so when Taylor heard that he was back to paying attention. He’d been left on the table for what felt like forever but he could now hear the distinct sound of chains somewhere behind him. He could barely grunt in protest.  
The hopes that this were just another nightmare had long faded away.  
He felt familiar shackles going onto his wrists before the zip ties were roughly cut. He closed his eyes as he was pulled from the table just in case they dropped him, but he was then dragged back against the wall of the cargo hold. The chains were anchored as shackles circled his ankles before he was simply left on his side on the ground as they began to clean up the table. Feeling for the locks on the shackles was the first moment Taylor realized he could move his hands.  
It felt like a long time before he could move anything else. The arm he was laying on had gone numb but in his efforts to move it he managed to roll back a little to take off some weight. It immediately filled with pins and needles.  
The movement caught the attention of a supervising soldier and Taylor’s eyes followed him as he moved closer. He knelt over Taylor to look down into his eyes and Taylor could feel his body already involuntarily shiver.  
“Can you speak?”  
Taylor was surprised to hear him using English. He tried, but nothing came from his throat yet. The soldier seemed disappointed as he moved away again.  
Taylor couldn’t understand why they hadn’t just knocked him out like last time. He would have much preferred it to what was happening to him now. He was sure it had been hours since he’d been picked up. Despite his inability to sleep before this he’d been conscious for the majority of the ride so far. Conscious and very much on edge.

“Taylor! Hi! Could we get a photo?!”  
“Sure thing,” he grinned, wrapping his arms around the shoulders of the two giddy fangirls that had accosted him in the corridor of the TV studio.  
Isaac watched closely from further down the hall.  
“Now we’ve got to run,” Mark insisted as soon as the selfie was taken, “but thanks so much for coming!”  
He turned to follow the band, leaving the girls to their own devices. He locked eyes with Isaac as he walked past and gave him a self-satisfied smirk.  
“What have we done?” Isaac said under his breath before closing the door behind them.  
Mark greeted anyone who spoke to them amicably but casually let either Isaac or Zac take the lead on any business related questions. It was easier once he got hold of a cup of coffee and just coincidentally took a sip anytime someone asked them something.  
On a tight schedule they were rushed through to the studio where the interview would take place. There was a little confusion in the dressing room when the makeup artists realized Mark was already wearing some, but he blew it off as being extra prepared by coming directly from another appearance (a lie) and being the only one to not wash his face first. Isaac and Zac just went along with it.  
Mark led the way through when it was time to set up, and joked with one of the assistants about getting close to his chest when she came to place a microphone on his shirt. Both Isaac and Zac shared worried glances the entire time but so far no one had noticed anything amiss. Not even from their own team.  
Mark kept an amused smirk on his face for the majority of the interview yet still managed to remain quiet outside of simply agreeing with Taylor’s brothers on their answers. Until the interviewer started to pick up on it and began speaking to him directly.  
“So Taylor-“  
“Yes?”  
“Tell us about this new tour you’re about to embark on. Do you feel as though this is making up for some lost time over the past few years? We haven’t seen you in a while.”  
“Well-“  
“We definitely feel like we’re making up for lost time in a way,” Zac cut in, “we took a lot of time off to focus on some family issues, and some issues within the band even, but we’ve done a lot of work to be back to the point where we’re ready to get out there again and in fact we’re really excited about what’s coming.”  
“Right, we can’t wait to get out there again,” Isaac agreed.  
“Are you excited, Taylor?” the interviewer pointedly asked.  
“For sure,” Mark insisted, “as you can tell, it might have been a mistake letting these guys out of the cage again so soon but I’m sure they’ll calm down once we get a few shows under our belt and the adrenaline disperses.”  
The interviewer laughed with Mark at that. The Hansons didn’t.  
“So will this tour be any different, or special in any way?” he was blatantly directing his question at Mark this time.  
“I think it will be special in the sense that it’s been a long time coming so it kinda feels like coming home in a sense,” Mark considered, “it’s not special in a way that we’ve really done before. We’re not making it about our charity and we’re not making it about our ‘greatest hits’ and we’re not making it about a new album that frankly we don’t have. But it’s special in that we want to take this opportunity to reconnect with our audience and with our dedicated followers and say to them ‘hey, we’re about to embark on this new journey and we want you to come with us’.”  
Isaac locked eyes with Zac as Mark spoke. This hadn’t turned out to be the train wreck they’d been imagining all day, but it wasn’t over yet.

Soldiers had been passing him constantly, but only the English speaker had paid him any more attention. As the time passed he was becoming more and more mobile and as soon as he was able to Taylor managed to sit himself up to take the weight off his arms. The next time the soldier spotted him he came back to kneel in front of him again.  
“Can you speak?” he repeated his earlier question.  
“Yes,” Taylor’s throat was dry and it showed in his voice.  
“он может двигаться!” the soldier called out to a comrade.  
Taylor’s eyes followed them as the one in front of him was passed what looked like a metal water container. He removed the screw cap and held it out.  
“Drink,” he insisted.  
Taylor shifted his hands behind him, knowing his wrists wouldn’t be unlocked so that he could hold the canister himself. The soldier leant forward so that he was within reach and - not wanting to potentially have them force him into it - Taylor complied. The water that spilled down his throat was cold but he couldn’t rub it away.  
When he was done the soldier stood to take the water away.  
“What did you do to me?” Taylor got up the nerve to ask once he’d broken eye contact.  
He didn’t want to ask why he hadn’t been sedated, worried that they actually might. But the soldier ignored him anyway.  
“Why am I alone?” he tried again, “why do they only want me? Why did you go after my twin?!”  
The soldier put a finger to his lips to hush him. Taylor didn’t know why he expected answers this time after getting nothing out of them on his last trip to Russia.   
He fell back against the wall of the cargo hold in defeat. If this were anything like last time maybe he’d get some answers once they landed.  
If his heart held out that long. It felt like it was going to beat clear out of his chest already.


	5. Chapter 5

“How did you do that?” Zac turned on Mark the moment they were alone back at the studio.  
“I told you,” he shrugged, removing Taylor’s trinkets that they’d given him, “I’m a decent bull shitter.”  
“This does not solve our Tay problem,” Isaac insisted, coming into the room after seeing off their crew, “in fact it kinda feels like we’ve been distracted on purpose.”  
“We organized the interview, we organized KTUL for tomorrow,” Zac reminded him, “that’s on us.”  
“Do you need me to do the same thing tomorrow?” Mark seemed to offer.  
“Why do you want to?” Zac gave him a suspicious look, “what’s in this for you?”  
Mark shrugged, not having thought about it.  
“I owed him. Your brother,” he admitted, “seems like an easy way to pay a debt. Plus it’s like a mini witness protection while I’m here.”  
“Are people after you again?” Isaac demanded, wondering what else they might be getting themselves into.  
“No more than last time you saw me,” Mark assured.  
“Well Dad said he’d have something else in place by tomorrow so… I guess we’ll ride this out and see if we need you or not,” Zac still debated internally whether they should cancel.  
“Cool. Let me know,” Mark collapsed onto the couch and put his feet up.  
Isaac and Zac shared an awkward glance.  
“You can’t stay here,” Isaac insisted, “we need to get home, and we can’t stay with you.”  
“And?” Mark raised a brow.  
“And frankly we don’t trust you here on your own,” Zac was blunt.  
“I got no money,” Mark raised his hands, “where am I gonna go?”  
“What happened to the money you got from Colin?” Isaac frowned.  
“It went straight back to him paying for that apartment while I was there,” Mark shrugged.  
“The whole million?” Isaac didn’t believe it.  
“You know what? That’s my business,” Mark scorned, not wanting to bring his father’s care into the argument, “you’re lucky I even want to stay here. You got no front door. What’s to stop some rabid fans from walking in and taking all your shit?”  
“Security is shot,” Isaac agreed, looking across at his brother.  
“You want to leave him here?” Zac was surprised, “like some kind of guard dog?”  
“If you’re going to be petty about it after I just saved your asses today I’ll find a park to sleep in,” Mark scoffed.  
“Dad can come back here once he’s finished doing whatever he’s doing,” Isaac pointed out.  
“I’ll call him,” Zac eyed Mark before leaving the room to make the call.  
Mark watched him go before looking up at Isaac expectantly.  
“You understand our trust issues, right?” Isaac had to ask.  
“Sure,” Mark shrugged, “but we’ve also come a long way in the last two years.”  
Isaac nodded. He had a point. But he still knew Taylor wouldn’t have liked it and that was playing on his mind.

Taylor was hooded as he was pulled from the plane and placed in the back of a van. He was almost sure it was the same one he’d woken up in last time with the rest of the C series. But this time, as it was now blatantly obvious, he was definitely alone.   
The van ride felt a lot longer. He was accompanied by two soldiers, one of them being the one who spoke English earlier. They chatted away in Russian and in general paid him no mind.   
This time the hood wasn’t removed before they led him out, and he couldn’t do it himself with his hands shackled behind instead of in front. He expected to be taken into the room where they had previously lined them up against the wall but he appeared to walk further this time and he could hear a lot more noise.  
The noise was unsettling. There was crying. There was yelling. In the distance he could hear what sounded like a grinder at work. Almost like he was being led through a factory where the workers were all in mourning.  
When they came to a stop he had to step up a few inches before moving a further few feet and being told to sit down. The hood was finally removed and once he took note that there was only one soldier with him he had a quick look around.  
It was a very different cell, thinner but longer. The same kind of bed built into the side wall with a basin and toilet further back. The lights were a blue fluorescent this time instead of yellow and the door looked like glass. The step up had been into the cell and the door was surrounded by a thick layer of silicone which he could already tell would seal it air tight. The only air vent was in the ceiling.  
“Someone will be here to speak with you,” the soldier indicated for Taylor to lean aside so his shackles could be unlocked.  
“About what?” he asked as he complied, “will I find out why I’m here?”  
“I do not know. We are only delivery boys. Our work here is done.”  
Taylor swallowed hard at that, again worried about what was coming. Once the chains were off the soldier collected them up and simply turned to leave. Taylor folded his arms as he watched them close the door, seeing clearly through the glass the massive bolt that was used to lock it. The sound from outside instantly ceased showing the glass was soundproof as well.

“Mr Bell? A word?”  
Alex jumped, not expecting the voice from behind him. Morris stood in his doorway looking more than a little tired.  
“Sure,” he quickly closed his laptop, hoping Morris hadn’t been there long enough to see what he’d been doing.  
He followed Morris down the corridor as he led him toward an outside door. Confused and a bit worried now, Alex folded his arms as Morris greeted security at the door before indicating for Alex to follow him through. Once outside and far enough away from prying ears Morris cleared his throat.  
“We need to have a talk about your place here,” Morris began tentatively.  
“Okay,” Alex’s nerves immediately heightened.  
This could be anything from ‘stop prying’ all the way up to ‘it’s time to lock you up’ and he was already thinking the worst. As they walked the perimeter of the building he could easily see the barbed wire fence that surrounded them further out and the armed guards that patrolled it regularly.  
“I’ve been speaking with one of our employed tech experts,” Morris kept his eyes down, “and they have briefed me on some of your recent online activities.”  
“I don’t think I’ve done anything wrong,” Alex frowned, at the same time trying hard to remember if he had.  
“I’ll admit we never gave you strict guidelines on our security protocols, and I’m aware that your past hobbies very much align with our current issue,” Morris relented making Alex grit his teeth, “so while we don’t necessarily want to starve you of your sometimes impressive and possibly future needed abilities, we do need to explore those guidelines with you and come to a happy compromise.”  
“Okay,” Alex was already wondering how bad this was going to be.  
“The first thing we need to address is the use of my name to authorize field work for our teams.”  
“I tried to tell you it was important!” Alex jumped on the defence quickly, “and Carey’s welfare aside, which we should be a _lot_ more worried about anyway in my opinion considering there’s only five of us left, who’s to say that they weren’t on their way here to get me and Keandre at the same time? We didn’t know the bad guys only wanted one of us at the time, and maybe if Damien had had some similar kind of warning when they came for him he could have actually done something about it.”  
Morris listened to him rant, patiently waiting for him to finish.  
“In fact, I think we should have some kind of warning system for this kind of thing. I mean you said the Russians wouldn’t be back and that they had what they came for when they took Joey and his series but obviously that was wrong. What if they want to collect a set? What if they want to go after more clones from like Evan’s series or the other one I know next to nothing about? You have operatives out there in the wild living their lives that probably don’t even know they are in danger! They should know! They should be able to protect themselves! And if any of the data here was compromised maybe last time they came for us, we don’t know that they don’t know where those guys are and where they’re living. Maybe they _are_ in danger and it just hasn’t happened yet.”  
“I’m sure your concern is appreciated,” Morris decided to cut in as Alex took a breath, “but much of it is ill placed. We do have measures in place to protect those already in the field.”  
“If you already have something, why aren’t the C series privy to it?” Alex jumped on, “why are we being left to run for our lives without help? Not to mention, if what you have is so great, why were the G series compromised?”  
“Well to put it bluntly, the G series were compromised because of the C series.”  
“What do you mean?” Alex stopped walking.  
“All employees of DIGER were distracted with Evan’s escape and the consequences of that action,” Morris seemed careful with how he phrased it, “not to mention Carey’s condition at the time along with Mark’s own compromising situation. We had to pull dedicated personnel from other operations to work with a series that none of us were overly experienced with or knowledgeable about. You have to remember, Mr Bell, that this is very new for us too.”  
“If that were the case then explain Colin’s wife’s involvement for me,” Alex frowned again.  
“Perhaps some other time,” Morris continued walking, expecting Alex to follow, “however there are similar aspects of her previous situation that I would like to apply to yours.”  
Alex didn’t like the sound of that but he said nothing.  
“Her placement was one of surveillance. All she had to do was report back to us,” Morris finally looked him in the eye and Alex was too scared to look away, “I’d like to offer you a similar position, based here in Nevada until we can safely move back to Dallas. As far as I can tell you’ve practically been doing it already anyway.”  
“You’re offering me an actual job?” Alex tried to understand, “or would it just be a favor?”  
“It would be a way for you to earn your keep, as it were,” Morris considered, “while allowing us to keep an eye on your extracurricular activities.”  
“So you don’t trust me,” Alex realized.  
“We are well aware of your criminal record, Mr Bell,” Morris had to muse, “and even if we weren’t, you haven’t given us all that much reason to trust you since you were given access to the DIGER intranet.”  
Alex felt his face flush red. It had been a long time since he’d been in trouble with the law, but as they’d probably guessed it was only really because he’d gotten better at what he did. It was just a case of not getting caught.  
Here, he’d been caught out.  
“What do you want me to do?” he asked, already feeling like he’d been backed into a corner.

“He’s not answering,” Zac ended another call to his Dad.  
“He should have been here by now. He knows we have to leave,” Isaac was pacing behind him.  
“Calm your tits,” Mark was focused at the sound desk, leaning over a mirror as he applied foundation to his chin, “we’re prepared enough.”  
“They want a performance, we are not prepared at all,” Isaac was fretting.  
“So I’ll talk croaky and say I’m sick, no big deal. One of you can take lead and I’ll just… I don’t know, shake a tambourine or something. It won’t be hard.”  
Isaac gave Zac a pointed look behind Mark’s back.  
Before they could say anything else they could hear the rattle of the studio door opening. Zac immediately went to investigate with Isaac giving Mark one last glance before following.  
“Dad? Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Zac demanded once he was in his sights.  
“I was driving and I didn’t hear it,” Walker replied a moment before someone else followed him through the door.  
Zac froze on the spot, causing Isaac to almost run into him from behind.  
“Hi,” the newcomer offered with a grin.  
“Who are you?” Zac looked him up and down apprehensively.  
He and Walker shared an amused glance.  
“For all intents and purposes…” he was smirking, “I am Taylor Hanson.”


	6. Chapter 6

Taylor had barely moved, not wanting to explore the cell just yet. He didn’t know how long he might be here and knew it could get very boring very quickly. So aside from using the bathroom he stayed on the bed.  
He didn’t hear footsteps despite personnel walking back and forth outside. So when the cell door unlocked for the first time the noise of it made him jump. A soldier, someone who looked like a doctor, and a very familiar woman made their way inside.  
The soldier stood to the side with one hand on his baton as the doctor set a small plastic case on the basin.  
“Hello Mr Hanson,” the woman smiled, staying closest to the door, “first would you confirm to us that you are Mr Hanson?”  
“Yes I am,” he knew they’d figure it out so there was no point in lying.  
“Just to be sure we will take a small amount of blood,” she gave the doctor a nod.  
He’d pulled a syringe and rubber band from his case and at her indication moved over to Taylor. Taylor offered his right arm while keeping his eyes on the woman.  
“Why am I the only one here this time?” he asked while she waited for the blood to be taken.  
“You’re not.”  
Taylor’s brow furrowed at that, wondering if someone else had been picked up while he’d been in transit.  
“In fact, that’s the very reason you are here.”  
“You mean I’m going to be told this time?” he didn’t want to get his hopes up too soon, “last time you just locked me up and that was it.”  
“Last time we were delayed by Marcus Miller’s cosmetic procedures, along with further plans for… I believe it were Keandre Moreau and Alexander Bell, that were never realized,” she seemed amiable with her explanation which completely caught him off guard, “this time we are not focused on your differences. You are required as a sort of biological backup system for our current ongoing project.”  
Taylor frowned, confused.  
“Biological backup? What does that mean?” he shook his head before gritting his teeth as the needle was removed from his arm.  
“To put it clearly, we need your blood. With Damien out of the equation you along with your twin were the closest match with our new test subjects. With the experiments we’ve been running we are short on blood supply for transfusions. This will be your role.”  
Taylor’s mind was suddenly spinning, and not just from the blood loss and recent lack of food.  
“What test subjects?” he was afraid to ask but had to do it.  
She gave the soldier a nod before indicating for Taylor to move toward the door. At first he wondered why he’d be allowed outside the cell without being in chains, but when the soldier came to take him by the arm he soon realized he wasn’t going that far.  
The soldier took him to the slightly ajar door, stopping just short of it. For the first time Taylor took a good look into the corridor and he saw cells just like his lined up as far as he could see. The one directly across from him was currently empty – the only one he’d previously been able to see – but the one to the left of it held three occupants with their own curious gazes.  
His breath caught in his throat when he recognized their faces.

“You’re not Taylor,” was Zac’s awkward initial reaction.  
“He is today,” Walker assured, “he can take Taylor’s place as long as he is needed.”  
“We don’t even know this guy,” Isaac sidled up to his father, “how are we supposed to work with him?”  
“You have the ride over to KTUL to get acquainted,” Walker shrugged, “that should be all the time you need.”  
“Are you kidding?” Zac’s brow rose.  
“I’m right here guys,” the intruder raised his hand, “I could probably answer any questions better than your Dad right now. Well, my Dad too I guess.”  
“Who are you?” Zac repeated his first question.  
“I’m Taylor Hanson.”  
“Try again.”  
He eyed Walker who gave him a nod.  
“My real name is Jackson Jones,” he relented, “and before you ask; yes I’m younger but I can easily counter that. Yes I can play keyboard and some basic guitar but I’m not great on drums. Yes I know a lot of your back catalogue and I don’t suck at singing. I’m not up on your current tour plans but I’m a pretty quick learner if you want to fill me in. No I’m not a virgin.”  
Isaac was about to object again but the last sentence caught him off guard.  
“How old are you?” Zac asked instead.  
“I was born in ’93,” Jackson readily supplied.  
“You’re ten years younger?” Isaac was surprised.  
“Put a little something-something on my face already,” Jackson gave his stubble a pat.  
“You boys need to leave if you want to get there on time,” Walker interrupted them, “talk more in the car.”  
“We should take Mark,” Isaac looked to his brother.  
“Did you hear the part where I said I could play?” Jackson pointed at his ear, “I didn’t spend all this time studying to be one-upped by a derelict mob bitch.”  
“Wow,” Zac’s brow rose.  
“…Studying?” Isaac turned on their father again.  
“Go,” Walker insisted, “I’ll deal with Mark.”  
“Or I’ll just go without you and meet you there,” Jackson started backing toward the front door, “good luck replacing me if I get there first. That’ll be something for the papers.”  
He ducked out the door before anyone could say anything else.  
“Shit,” Zac cussed before quickly following.  
“Where did you find this guy?” Isaac demanded.  
“I’ll explain later. You have somewhere to be,” Walker gave him a pat on the shoulder before going to find Mark.

“You didn’t know?” the woman made him jump when he realized she was beside him.  
“Did you make them?” Taylor frowned, staring across at the clones again, “did you make them from Damien?”  
“No. They were made by your government.”  
“How old are they?”  
“This year they turn fifteen.”  
“They’re just kids,” Taylor covered his mouth with his free hand.  
The other arm was still being held tightly by the soldier, making sure he couldn’t make a run for the open door.  
“They are subjects,” the woman corrected, “and we need your help to keep them alive.”  
“What are you doing to them?” the horror was showing on his face, “what are you doing that involves so much blood loss?!”  
The soldier dragged him back toward the bed before the woman could reply. He wouldn’t let go of Taylor’s arm until he was seated. The doctor promptly left the cell.  
“They’re just kids,” Taylor repeated, starting to feel a lump in his throat.  
“Unlike your previous stay with us we will need to pay a lot more attention to your diet,” she ignored him, checking her clipboard instead, “and you will need to drink a lot of water. Whatever we supply you with for the day should suffice. We must avoid any infection or potential contamination of the blood as much as possible. This is quarantine.”  
“So no shower?” Taylor barely got out, his mind preoccupied elsewhere.  
“We will try and preserve your body’s natural oils as long as possible but after a short incubation period you will be required to stay clean.”  
“How?” Taylor indicated his mini bathroom at the back of the cell.  
“You will be escorted back and forth before appointments.”  
“Appointments?” he jumped on, “what appointments?”  
“We have specialized equipment ready to take your blood donations not too far down the hall,” she explained, “we will not have the room in here.”  
“Okay,” his eyes went back to the door.  
“Once your blood from today has been tested to confirm your identity and that it is free from contaminants we will begin right away. I would guess in about two days’ time.”  
“Okay.”  
“Good day, Mr Hanson.”  
She led the soldier out and he sealed the cell behind them. Taylor waited until they were out of sight before jumping to his feet again and rushing to the door.  
The three clones were still there and still staring. When they saw him again they appeared to excitedly chatter with each other. Taylor couldn’t hear a thing but he hoped they didn’t think his appearance was a sign of salvation. Not in the sense of rescue anyway. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what kind of experiments these people were running on them. They seemed okay but he couldn’t tell for sure, and he had no idea how long they’d been here.  
One of the clones waved to him and he awkwardly waved back. He was already mentally cursing Morris for keeping them a secret.

Zac barely took his eyes off Jackson from the moment they got into the studio, and the staff had begun to notice. He shrugged it off as something personal but as soon as it was brought up Jackson had started paying attention to it himself.  
The tricks they’d played with Mark didn’t work with Jackson. He was almost demanding his time in the spotlight in comparison to Mark’s need to take a step back. But neither brother could do anything while the spotlight was on them.  
“So the tour we’re about to do isn’t necessarily something special in terms of-“  
“I wouldn’t say it isn’t special,” Jackson cut Isaac off, “every tour is special in terms of the connection we have with the audience, and that’s really what drives us to get out there – has driven us to get back on the road at this point. We know it’s been some time and we want to get out there again just as much as those fans who’ve been waiting for these dates want to see us again. We’re excited. We’ve been waiting for this too.”  
“Definitely,” Zac agreed, though without showing the enthusiasm, “and it’s not like we’re just going to re-hash all the old stuff either, there is definitely new music involved and there’s some other things in the works just as an extra thank you from us to the fans who have waited so patiently for us to get our crap together after all this time.”  
“So there’s a new album?” the interviewer looked between them.  
“Not in the sense of a record being released,” Isaac quickly covered, “but there’s definitely a lot of new material we’ve been working to perfect and-“  
“Not just new material either,” Jackson cut him off again, “but there’s a whole back catalogue of songs that the general public haven’t heard and that many of our fan club members may not have seen live that we’re working to incorporate into the set, so there’ll be something for everyone no matter how much of a fan they are – or even if you’re just curious to find out what Hanson has been up to these past few years. Come to a show and find out.”  
As the interview came to a close Zac found himself gritting his teeth. They’d barely had time to fill Jackson in on their tour plans on the ride to the studio, yet he’d somehow managed to piece it together enough to practically take over the interview. He could tell Isaac was in a similar mindset just from the look on his face. But they’d have to wait until they got back to 3CG to address it.  
“We’ll take it from here,” he said a quick goodbye to their crew, “I’ll call you tomorrow about tour prep.”  
“At least Taylor’s back to normal,” their guitar tech made an off the cuff comment as he finished packing up, “something must have been up yesterday.”  
Zac did a double take but the tech didn’t notice, carrying on with his work. He quickly ran back through the interview in his mind to work out how Jackson could possibly have been a better ‘Taylor’ than Mark had. He’d been assertive, dominant, flirty with the hosts, particular about the tour details…  
With an internal groan, Zac realized he may have been onto something.


	7. Chapter 7

Taylor lay staring at the door and at the people walking past, hating that he couldn’t hear what was going on outside. He wouldn’t have warning if anyone were to open the cell and he certainly didn’t feel safe enough to sleep there.  
Last time it had taken a couple of days and complete exhaustion to force him into sleep. This time he had a rough idea of when they were coming back for him at least.  
The first meal he had seemed to be a precedent of what was to be a staple. There was thankfully no sign of the dreaded potato but he instead had an uninviting sludge of green to one side of the tray and a square clump of some kind of dark meatloaf sat at the other. He was sure it had been warm at some point but it wasn’t anymore. The meat didn’t taste like anything and the sludge tasted metallic.  
He wondered offhandedly how hard it would be to get into the kitchen of this place. But wondering if he’d make it back out had him questioning what kind of meat it even was and he quickly tried to find another thought pattern. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know in a place like this. Maybe it was even synthetic.  
With only the steady hum of the air flow to keep him company, he tried to force his eyes closed. The lights of the cell had been dimmed after mealtime which in turn made him wonder about the security of this place. The last cell had felt like they’d been stuffed in a shed out in the middle of nowhere and forgotten. This felt a lot more high tech already. It was like comparing a farm shed to an inner city skyscraper.  
He felt like he’d just managed to calm himself down enough that he might try to sleep when he thought he heard something. Worried that the air system was already playing with his ears, he stared across at the wall as he tried to concentrate on it. It sounded like soft murmuring, which had to be impossible through the thick glass.  
He sat up on the bed to see if he could work out where it was coming from. At first it didn’t seem to have a source, but he eventually looked up. It had to be coming from the only opening in the room – the air vent.   
He rubbed his face to work out if he were awake enough to stand on the bed, but decided to brave it regardless. The bed got him closer to the vent but it was still just out of reach to touch.  
“Hello?!” he called out, hoping it might be another prisoner somewhere nearby.  
Having someone to talk to would already make this experience a lot different to the last one.  
The murmuring stopped, which made him even more sure that it was a person he’d been hearing and nothing mechanical.   
“Is someone there?!” he tried again.  
“Hello?” he heard a faint call, barely recognizable.  
“HEY!” he raised his own voice, hoping they would get the hint, “I’m new here! Do… do you speak English?!”  
“Yes,” came a soft reply, “are you American?”  
“Yes!” Taylor replied, “what’s your name?”  
“Kane!” he heard back, making him break a smile for the first time, “are you from DIGER?”  
“Yeah! Sort of!” he winced as he replied.  
“C series?”  
“Yes!”  
“Which one are you?”  
“My name is Taylor!” he offered, before seeing shadows move in his peripheral.  
“Are you Taylor Hanson?”  
He could see shadows from the clones across the corridor but he couldn’t tell what they were doing from this angle.  
“Yes!” he cleared his throat before replying, “how many of you are there?”  
He could hear some excited chatter following which told him Kane definitely wasn’t alone. With the three across the way that made at least five.  
“Seven,” Kane eventually replied.  
“Wow,” Taylor murmured to himself, his brow furrowing as he looked back at the door.  
He hoped Kane meant there was seven all together and not just in the cell next door.  
“There were nine,” Kane added just as Taylor was about get off the bed to see if he could see any more.  
“Nine?” he called back, “what happened to the other two?”  
“They died.”  
“Shit,” he cussed under his breath before jumping from the bed.  
He went to the door. The three across from him were all at their own door, staring back across at him. It sent a shiver down his spine and he could feel his hairs standing on end. He folded his arms before he tried looking either way down the corridor. Those three were the only ones he could see, though the light was on in the cell next to theirs.  
One of the clones suddenly made a motion like he was playing a guitar. The other two watched before looking across at Taylor expectantly. Taylor wondered if Kane had somehow gotten the message to them already, but nodded just in case they were confirming who he was. They went back to excited chatter before another one directed ASL toward the cell across from theirs and next to Taylor’s where he couldn’t see.  
They were using sign language to communicate. He immediately regretted not learning enough of it.

Zac closed the studio door, and then his eyes, and counted to ten.  
“You’re going to need to tone it down a little bit,” was the first thing he heard Isaac say behind him, “I know you might be trying to make up for Mark’s lack of enthusiasm yesterday but today was a little overkill.”  
“What did Mark do yesterday?” Jackson was oblivious.  
Zac took a deep breath before turning to join them. Jackson had taken a seat on the couch and Isaac was leaning against the back of a chair.  
“You weren’t watching?” Isaac’s brow rose.  
“I was told to study Taylor Hanson, not Mark Miller.”  
“How much study did you do, exactly?” Zac leant back against the door.  
“We were called in to do a course at DIGER a few years back which I’ve supplemented more recently with extra music lessons.”  
“’We’?” Isaac picked up on.  
“A course?” Zac frowned, “you guys were actually studying us? Why?”  
“In case we had to infiltrate,” Jackson shrugged, “speaking of which, do you mind if I drop the accent for the night? This is a lot more tiring than I expected.”  
“Accent?” Zac shot Isaac a glance.  
“Your Oklahoma accent. Kinda droopy like Texan with a posh rounding to it.”  
“Wait, where are you from?” Isaac stood up straight, “are you not from here?”  
“I’m from here,” Jackson confirmed, “but I grew up in Australia.”  
“You’re Aussie?” Zac was surprised.  
“Yes, technically. Dual citizenship as far as the government is concerned,” Jackson’s voice was relaxing already and it was becoming glaringly obvious, “I should probably mention that I’ve met your brother already by the way.”  
“When did you meet Tay?” Zac asked.  
“Not Taylor,” Jackson’s eyes went to him, “Mackenzie. I met him in LA.”  
“You’re were in- wait a second,” Isaac’s mind was reeling, “you’re the one Mac called us about? When the Millers weren’t in LA? Why were you there?”  
“A classified mission, sorry,” Jackson shrugged.  
“So you’re basically what they wanted Taylor to be. Some kind of… soldier that can assimilate.”  
“I think you’ve been watching too many movies,” Jackson smirked.  
“You said ‘we’ studied us, who’s ‘we’?” Isaac demanded.  
“The rest of us,” Jackson looked confused at why he’d ask.  
“How many of you are there?”  
Zac shifted his weight, thinking back to when he briefly met Joey. He kept his eyes down so Isaac wouldn’t notice anything.  
“That’s classified,” Jackson leant back into the couch to get comfortable.  
“You know how deep we are in this, right?” Isaac’s eyes narrowed, “you wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for me and Tay.”  
“Technically just you,” Jackson gave him a finger gun, “Damien was made from your DNA, and I was made from Damien’s. It gets technical, it’s not for everybody.”  
Isaac stopped himself before he could retort, running his fingers through his hair and taking a deep breath.  
“So what do you guys usually do after these things?” Jackson looked between them, “I only know about the stuff on-camera.”  
“We go home, usually,” Zac considered, “but I doubt that will be an option for you.”  
“What are we going to do with him?” Isaac looked to his brother, leaning on the chair again.  
“I got a place.”  
“You have a place? Here?” Zac’s brow rose.  
“Mr Hanson organized it for me.”  
“Of course he did,” Isaac muttered.  
“How far is it?” Zac thought to ask, “maybe we can drop you there.”  
“I can Uber,” Jackson pulled out his phone, “just go about your night like you would usually, if I were Taylor. The less we deviate from the ordinary the better.”  
Isaac stared across at him as he ordered his ride. Zac pulled the door open behind him.  
“Ike? A word?” he gave him a nod.  
Isaac followed him into the hall, closing the studio door behind himself.  
“How long does Dad think we can keep this up?” he was still very on edge.  
“I don’t know,” Zac admitted, “but we do need to start thinking about what to do if Tay doesn’t come back anytime soon. We have all these dates lined up and not long until they’re on us.”  
“We could break his arm,” Isaac lowered his voice, “I mean if he can’t play then-“  
“We could always break your arm,” Zac pointed out, “if we broke his, they might be able to replace him.”  
“How many of them could there possibly be out there?” Isaac was at a loss, “how could we never have run into one before three years ago? This is insane!”  
“Preaching to the choir with that one,” Zac shook his head.

“Taylor? Are you there? Mr Hanson?”  
It took him a while to hear the voice, but as soon as he did he was on his feet.  
“I’m here!” he called back, standing up onto the bed again, “Kane?”  
“No, my name is Joseph,” the voice came back.  
“Joseph,” he corrected himself, “are you okay?”  
“Yeah. You’re friends with Alex, right?”  
“I am, sort of,” Taylor frowned, “we keep in touch. He’s more friends with my brother.”  
“Is he okay? Is he here too?”  
“He’s not here,” Taylor called back, hoping that were true, “I’m alone.”  
How did Joseph know who Alex was? How did any of these kids know who _he_ was?  
“I think he’s okay,” he offered.  
“Thank you.”  
“How-“ Taylor cut himself off, unsure if he should ask.  
But he didn’t know how long any of them were going to be there, and not knowing would drive him crazy.  
“How do you know him?”  
There was a moment of silence to follow. Taylor checked the door but there was no sign of movement. The lights had been dimmed for hours now.  
“I met him at DIGER. He helped me,” came the response.  
“How many people are still keeping secrets?” Taylor muttered to himself before looking up again, “thanks Joseph. Get some sleep.”  
“Good night.”  
Taylor stepped down from the bed and ran his fingers through his hair before moving over to the door again. The night guard was about to walk past but there was no movement from any cells in view. He waited until the guard had passed before going back to the bed. He knew he wasn’t going to sleep but he at least needed to rest.


	8. Chapter 8

“She’s not so bad,” Emma was trying to burp Max over her shoulder as she paced the kitchen, “but I don’t think I’ll ever trust her.”  
“Did you have someone around you all the time when Ellie was born?” Carey hated to ask, “or does this seem like overkill?”  
“This does seem like overkill, but…” Emma hesitated as Max responded before continuing after the false alarm, “I much prefer obvious overkill to what I’m sure they were doing last time.”  
“What?” Carey looked up from the couch.  
“Spying. You said they were watching us and I never even saw anything to make me think that.”  
“And they’d be watching us anyway,” Carey agreed, “so…”  
“Better that it’s out in the open,” she finished for him before Max suddenly threw up over her shoulder.  
She sighed and went to dispose of the towel that had caught it. Carey scratched at his stubble as he looked over the paperwork from the hospital. It had all been paid for already, but not by the Millers. DIGER’s public company name had been signed for by an S. Gerleman.  
While their funds were certainly depleting, especially after the care he’d needed after the mob attack, he felt like the lab’s fist was slowly closing over them.  
“But why did it have to be _her_?” he continued when Emma came back, “out of all the people they have working for them?”  
“Maybe she’s the only one connected to your particular case that they could spare?” Emma suggested, bringing Max over to his father, “I’m sure they’ve all hit the ground running with this Russian thing going on.”  
“That was when she showed up,” Carey realized, “you might be right.”  
“I usually am,” Emma stooped to hand their son over.  
Carey sat up to take him before settling back into the couch to try and get him to sleep.  
“Stop worrying about this,” Emma collected the paperwork while his hands were full, “if they want to pay for this, let them.”  
“That’s not what I’m worried about,” Carey insisted as she took it away.  
“I know,” she scoffed, “but we have better things to worry about right now.”  
Carey looked down at Max. His eyes were open and watching.  
“What do you think?” he asked him.

Taylor wasn’t watching the door when they opened it which again made him jump. He knew it had been a couple of days by now and he was probably overdue to start his donations. He stood from the bed as the first soldier came in.  
“Against the wall,” he ordered in a thick accent.  
Knowing the protocol from DIGER, Taylor went to the opposite wall and laid his hands flat against it. He heard the woman come in behind the soldier but he’d already made his way over with the chains.  
“Mr Hanson,” she greeted without him looking up, “your results came back positive and we are eager to proceed. We need you to come with us.”  
“I’m not resisting,” Taylor assured as the soldier pulled his hands behind his back to lock the shackles on.  
“We appreciate that.”  
The chains stayed all the same. He was taken from the cell and to the left, crossing between the cells of the younger clones. He had a quick look inside Kane and Joseph’s cell where he saw they had a third in there with them. The three across from them all had their eyes on him, but he now saw that the next cell over held one on his own as well. Seven, just as Kane had told him.  
The section that held the cells was about the same size as the other place but instead of a T-junction there was a large security door that opened into a further corridor. The first room to the left was Taylor’s destination. The room was only the size of a standard hotel room with what looked like a dentist chair to one side that was surrounded by basic medical equipment. Two medical personnel were waiting.  
The soldier closed and secured the door before moving to unlock the chains.  
“Please make yourself comfortable,” the woman indicated the chair while waiting for him to be freed.  
Once he was Taylor went to the chair. He had to step up into it and once he was seated the two doctors came forward to restrain his arms.  
“How often do I have to do this?” Taylor looked across at the woman as the straps tightened.  
“We are currently in dire need of your help,” the woman insisted, “while the blood will replenish itself within a few days it will not be elementally completed inside of two months. We wish to experiment with a weakened donation to see if it will be enough for what we need. For now we will take your blood once a week.”  
“That seems like a lot,” Taylor’s brow furrowed, before flinching as his shirt was pulled down and monitors were placed on his chest.  
“We will take great care with you,” the woman assured, “you are very special to us.”  
It wasn’t as reassuring as she’d seemed to hope it was. He watched closely as one of the doctors quickly readied a syringe and found a vein in his right arm. Everyone else’s eyes were on him to make sure he didn’t move. The doctor took multiple syringes’ worth of blood before muttering something in Russian and giving the woman a nod. Taylor was already feeling dizzy.  
“We will supply you with water you must drink,” she came to his side to tell him, “it will help you replenish the blood faster. Please do not exert yourself in the meantime.”  
He closed his eyes when she walked away, trying to control the vertigo. But they were already clearing the restraints in preparation to move him back to the cell.

“Mr Bell, I was told you wanted to see me?”  
Alex nearly jumped out of his skin, spilling some peas onto the cafeteria floor. Walker completely ignored them as he stared him down.  
“Yes Sir, I did,” he quickly pulled himself together, considering the peas a lost cause and quickly grabbing a couple of bread rolls and butter squares instead, “can we go to my room?”  
“Sure,” Walker stood aside to let him lead the way.  
Once they were in the hall and away from prying ears, Alex double checked over his shoulder before giving Walker a glance.  
“I wanted to talk to you about the guy you had watching over Taylor for a while,” he admitted, his voice still low, “I’m pretty sure you still have him watching Zac and Isaac.”  
“Mr Bell I’m aware of your latest agreement with Dr Morris,” Walker informed him, “the man you’re talking about is under my employ, not his. I cannot talk to you about him.”  
“Completely off the record then,” Alex insisted, “I don’t report everything to Morris. I’d be a fool if I did.”  
“Is he aware of that?”  
“No,” Alex stopped walking, “but I know there’s a lot of things that you wouldn’t want him to know about either.”  
Walker stopped with him, staring across at him again. Alex stood his ground but he was definitely intimidated by the man.  
“Are you planning to blackmail me, Mr Bell?” his voice was steady and full of warning.  
“No, of course not,” Alex frowned, “but we both want Taylor back, right?”  
“I’m listening.”  
Alex took another look up and down the empty corridor.  
“He was friends with Jesse, right?” he asked in a soft voice.  
“I can’t confirm that,” Walker’s eyes narrowed, “but I’m interested in how you came to that conclusion.”  
“It doesn’t matter,” Alex wasn’t about to throw Zac under the bus, “Jesse spoke Russian. At least a little bit. He and Keandre both did, even. So they had to have contacts in Russia.”  
“You want me to follow up their old military contacts,” Walker guessed.  
“It might be a chance is all I’m saying,” Alex shrugged, “and if there’s a chance we should take it, right? Or Taylor might be gone forever.”  
Walker gave him the side eye as he stepped aside to think. Alex instantly knew he’d pressed the right buttons. He might not be showing it outwardly, but Walker was worried. It didn’t take hacking his personal devices to figure that out.  
After a tense moment of silence Walker returned to his side.  
“I’ll talk with him,” he assured, “but I can’t guarantee that I can or will keep you updated.”  
“Understood,” Alex nodded, “anything to get Taylor back.”  
Walker turned to leave, leaving Alex with his tray of food in the hall.  
“What about Keandre?” Alex called after him.  
“What about him?” Walker turned back.  
“Well maybe…” Alex was already double guessing himself, “maybe we should get him involved? If he knows Russian he could help.”  
“I don’t see how,” Walker disagreed.  
“Translating, at least,” Alex shrugged.  
Walker paused, but shook his head.  
“Don’t go bothering Keandre,” he insisted, “he’s doing important work. We don’t want him distracted.”  
“What does that mean?” Alex frowned.  
“Good night, Mr Bell,” Walker walked away without responding further.  
Alex took a moment to think that over. In all the covert research he’d been able to do there, he hadn’t been able to get into Keandre’s files. Whatever he was doing had to be important. Or they just didn’t want Alex to know what it was.  
With a grimace he headed for his room again.

Taylor lay on his side on the bed, trying to keep his right arm stiff as the wound healed over and using the fingers of this left hand to fiddle with the bottle cap of the gallon of water they’d left in his cell for him. He had no idea how he was supposed to drink the whole thing in two days when he could barely move already.  
He’d heard either Joseph or Kane calling out to ask if he were okay, but he didn’t have the strength to respond and he couldn’t get to the door to signal the others instead. They had to have taken more blood than he’d ever lost before. He still had vertigo and he felt nauseous but he still had his wits about him and he figured he could make it to the toilet if he really needed to.   
It was the first time he really had to himself to think. He’d been locked in his head for so long last time he was sure he’d become delirious and he knew he didn’t want to get that way again, but at least this time he had people to talk to. To worry about. People he couldn’t wait to learn more from. He almost hoped they’d have as much time again so that he could.  
But there was no Jesse this time. While he hadn’t known of Jesse’s plan to get them out last time, just knowing he was with him had been a form of reassurance in itself. He didn’t have that anymore. Instead, he was almost certain he’d have to take on that kind of role for the others in his place.  
He didn’t know what he could do for them, but he potentially had a lot of time to figure something out. Maybe if he could study the guards, their timelines, their visitors… maybe, just maybe he could do something about their situation himself. Without the crutch of the tracers he knew the likelihood of rescue was already slim. If he wanted to see his family again it was going to have to be up to him.  
He needed to do something. He needed to get these kids out of here. But how?


	9. Chapter 9

“Please! It wasn’t my fault I swear to-!”  
Mark cut off when the person on the other end hung up. He resisted throwing the phone across the room and instead tried to call right back. The line was busy.  
“Great,” he muttered before changing objective.  
He dialled a different number. It took a while but it was finally answered.  
“Dr Morris speaking.”  
“Hey it’s Mark. Mark Miller,” he rubbed his face, “I got an issue you need to help me with.”  
“This is not the best time. Might I suggest you contact Walker Hanson? I’m sure he could help you.”  
“How about you help me?” Mark scorned, “it’s your fault I’m in this mess to begin with. Man up.”  
He heard an impatient sigh and took that as his cue to keep going.  
“I lost my job. I had a job, and then Walker took me out of town when I was supposed to be working and now I’m fucked. I haven’t got any money.”  
“Did Mr Hanson not accommodate you?” Morris sounded bored.  
“I have a room at a motel in the middle of fucking nowhere what am I supposed to do with that? How am I supposed to put gas in my bike? How am I supposed to _eat_?”  
“Do you have a running bank account?”  
“A couple.”  
“Send me a message with the account details and I’ll see what I can do.”  
“Okay,” Mark wasn’t expecting it to be that easy, “…thanks.”  
Morris ended the call before he could. He took a moment to look up his bank details and write them down on the motel notepad before texting them to the doctor’s number. He set the phone down on the table to go to the bathroom, but he’d only taken three steps and the phone received a message.  
Backtracking, he checked who it was from. It looked like an automated message from whatever DIGER’s system was and it said that he’d received a payment. Wondering how it could have worked so fast, he checked his bank account. The statement showed a deposit from DIGER’s public face company to the sum of $2000.  
“Cool,” he said to himself, “but what about when that runs out?”  
He winced and threw the phone onto the table again before actually heading for the bathroom.

“Have you guys actually seen much of this place?” Taylor was having trouble keeping his voice raised already, “I’ve seen a corridor to our left but I only went into one room.”  
“To the right there are more cells,” a voice came back and he wasn’t sure who it was, “beyond that quarantine ends and there’s a door into general population. There is security everywhere. At least one guard patrols each section every night.”  
Taylor kept his eye on his own door. Despite knowing the cell was soundproof, they had no way of knowing how far their voices were actually travelling through the vents.   
“Have you guys had any kind of training that might help with the guards?”  
He didn’t want to assume, but he didn’t know what kind of hold the labs had on them either.   
“Um, maybe? A couple of us?” the voice was unsure, “why? What are you thinking?”  
“I don’t know yet,” Taylor admitted, “we need more information.”  
“Wait there.”  
Taylor paused, before stepping down from the bed. It was taking more energy than expected to keep himself balanced up there. His eyes caught shadows moving outside of the cell and he went to take a quick look. The clones in the cell beside his were talking to the ones across the way. He watched for a moment before heading back to the bed to wait.  
“Mr Hanson?” the call came just as he was debating drinking more of the water.  
“I’m here!” he confirmed, climbing onto the bed again.  
“Matthew is the only one left who’s been out further. He went to the left like you did but closer to the edge of the building. That’s where they hold the people that are close to dying. You don’t usually come back from there.”  
“Ominous,” Taylor said under his breath.  
But that would be discounting their entire current situation.  
“They don’t bother with guards down there because everyone is sick.”  
“Are you sure?” Taylor had to ask.  
“First-hand story from Matt.”  
Taylor looked back to his door again. If they only had to contend with their own guard and the one on the other side of that door, they might have a chance between the eight of them.  
“Are you there?” the voice came back after he didn’t reply again.  
“I’m still here, I’m just thinking,” Taylor assured, “are any of you injured? Can you run?”  
“We can run. I think.”  
“Stay tuned,” Taylor stepped down from the bed again, “I’ll get back to you once I’ve thought of something.”  
“Be careful Mr Hanson.”  
“Call me Taylor.”

Alex was tapping a pen on his desk incessantly, despite knowing it would probably stop working if he kept it up. He’d been spending the past few days going over surveillance at more east coast airports in the hopes of finding the Russian plane. The more he looked the further he seemed to be from finding anything and it was constantly draining his spirit. He was just contemplating stopping for something to eat when a call came through.  
He paused when he realized he didn’t recognize the number. He didn’t know of anyone that would be in Virginia. But his contact number wasn’t easily accessible, so it had to be someone he knew.  
“Hello?” he answered apprehensively.  
“Mr Bell.”  
“Mr Hanson,” he breathed a sigh of relief, “what can I do for you Sir?”  
He held back on asking why he was in Virginia, but it was hard.  
“This is my attempt to keep you updated. I’ve already spoken with Dr Morris,” Walker sounded oddly like he was in a good mood, “per your suggestion we have made contact with an operation in Russia and they have begun the process of locating Taylor.”  
“How long will that take?” Alex frowned.  
“As long as it does.”  
“What about the tour?”   
Alex didn’t want to mention it, but he’d been getting sporadic updates from Zac. He knew the first shows were closing in and no one was confident that Jackson could pull them off.  
He was hoping to eventually meet Jackson, from what he’d heard about him, but knew that he was from Evan’s series and had kept a little closer eye on the Hansons’ movements just in case anything seemed awry.  
“That’s up to my sons, don’t worry yourself with it.”  
“It’s hard not to,” Alex admitted, “will you keep me updated? Or let me know if they find him?”  
“I can’t guarantee anything.”  
“I can’t just sit here waiting and doing nothing!” Alex exclaimed, “not if there’s something I can do to help! Are there any systems that need hacking? Is there a power grid I can cut off? I can do that anywhere in the world I swear. Just give me something to do or at least tell me that Taylor’s okay!”  
“I can’t tell you that,” Walker responded calmly, “and I assure you Mr Bell, you aren’t the only one waiting for answers.”  
“I’m sorry,” Alex quickly backtracked, “I know I have no right to be more upset than you or Zac or his wife or anyone else. But I’m scared. I want to know what they want. I want to know what happened to Joey.”  
“We all do,” Walker assured, “I’ll call back as soon as I can.”  
“Thanks,” Alex bit his lip as the call ended.  
He pulled his headphones off and threw them aside on the desk before putting his head in his hands. He’d thrown himself into surveillance again just to keep his mind off the possibility that the Russians might come back for he and/or Keandre but he couldn’t ignore the thoughts forever.  
He needed to talk to Keandre. He had to get through security on that level somehow.

“Against the wall.”  
Taylor eyed the soldier before doing as instructed. The chains were back on him in seconds.  
He was led back down the corridor toward the same room. This time he paid more attention to where he was going. There were only a few rooms around where they were taking his blood, but beyond that a patrol guard stood against a sliding door that led into further cells. Just as Joseph had said. He couldn’t spot an exit before he was pulled from the corridor and led toward the chair.  
The woman arrived soon after he was strapped in.  
“Mr Hanson,” she greeted with a nod, “have you been drinking the water we have supplied you?”  
“I’ve tried, but not all of it,” he admitted outright, “it’s a lot.”  
“I know,” she appeared sympathetic as they readied his right arm again, “we can add more salt to your diet. That may help you.”  
“Sure,” Taylor frowned as the first needle went in.  
She paused to watch as the blood was taken, as Taylor lay back into the chair to wait for it to be over.  
“Next time you have an appointment with us we will install a form of tubing into your arm to make the process a lot easier,” she struggled with her wording a little.  
“Like an IV?” he guessed, already feeling the vertigo.  
“A little,” she considered, “it will be so that we do not have to use needles. It will act like a faucet. But you must be cleaned first.”  
“Okay,” he wasn’t exactly sure what she’d meant but he gathered he’d be having a shower at some point.  
He’d taken to washing himself in the basin but it really wasn’t doing the job. He was already itching.  
A third vial of blood was taken before the needle was removed. This time Taylor was seeing stars behind his eyes.  
“I don’t feel well,” he admitted as the doctor began to clean up.  
“It will pass,” the woman assured, “you need water and to sleep. You will return to your room quickly.”  
Taylor didn’t like the sound of that. He’d wanted to scope out more of the compound, but the room was already spinning. When the soldier pulled him from the chair he could barely stand long enough for the shackles to go back on.  
The woman ended up calling for the nearby patrol guard to help the soldier guide him back to the cell. He was glad to finally collapse onto the bed and closed his eyes before they even left him. He knew he had to drink something but couldn’t find the energy just yet to even lean over.  
If he was going to take any form of action to get them out of there, it would have to be before one of these ‘appointments’ and not after.

“Are you in place?”  
“We’re on the ground. We’re about to go into radio silence,” Blake’s voice came through the phone many days later, “it’s going to take some time but once we have him somewhere safe I’ll call you back.”  
“It’s appreciated,” Walker assured, “are you sure it’s the right place?”  
“The boys have had their eyes on this one for some time. It’s the larger of the three they know about. A lotta people going in and not many coming out. Security is far too tight for what their front is. If these are the only Americans they’re holding they gotta be here.”  
“We don’t know if they’re the only Americans at this stage but they will know these ones are special,” Walker considered, “they’ll know we need these ones back.”  
“How many did you say again?”  
“Ten including Taylor. The others will be younger.”  
“Got it.”  
“Good luck.”  
“I don’t want to say I won’t let you down but I’ll for sure tell you that I’ll give it my all to bring him back.”  
“Thank you Mr Rickett.”  
Walker ended the call and handed the phone back to a waiting agent. He was then escorted from the Pentagon.


	10. Chapter 10

Taylor eyed the bottled water, debating drinking some more. But he knew he didn’t want a full bladder if they were going to have to run.  
They had a plan. Sort of. It hinged on Taylor being taken from his cell for his next appointment. They knew that after a week it was about time for more of his blood to be taken but the Russians didn’t seem to be on a set schedule. They were already in the waiting game.

Mark was at a corner store across from his motel when his phone received another message. Not expecting to hear from anyone for the foreseeable future, he frowned as he pulled it from his pocket. It was a second message exactly alike the one he’d received from DIGER the week before.  
He quickly stepped out of the line of customers so he could check his bank account. Another $2000 payment had been made.  
“What the…?” he took a moment to double check what had happened.  
It was about the same time of day that the last payment had gone in. Confused and not wanting to get his hopes up, he dialled for Morris again.  
“Mr Miller, I presume.”  
“Was I supposed to get that second payment or are you going to take it back?” he demanded.  
“You’ve been added to our payroll. You will receive those payments weekly until further notice.”  
“Until when?”  
“Further notice. We don’t know how long we will require you to lay low. Your other option is of course to come in to the lab where we can protect you properly.”  
“I think I’m good,” Mark quickly brushed off, “uh… thanks. I guess.”  
“Good day Mr Miller.”  
Mark hung up before a grin spread across his face.  
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!”  
He grabbed a few more things from the shelves and headed back to the counter.

Alex was trying to act confident as he headed down to level five where he knew Keandre was being kept. Once out of the elevator he was greeted by a guard who didn’t bother asking for his ID as he made short pleasantries and continued on. He checked his palm pilot where he’d installed a beta version of the tracking program. It told him Keandre was barely twenty yards away.  
But the first corner he rounded he found Morris ending a phone call.  
“Mr Bell,” his surprise was obvious, “what are you doing down here?”  
“I was just-“ he struggled for a good enough excuse with the doctor’s eyes on him, “I mean, I-“  
He quickly hid the palm pilot in his back pocket.  
“Mr Bell?” he was waiting.  
“I wanted to see Keandre,” Alex came out with, “I know he’s down here somewhere.”  
“Why?”  
“Because I think he deserves to know about the Russians, and what’s going on with Taylor. I wasn’t going to say anything about Joey,” Alex insisted, “and I found a vocal translator that I could install on this-“  
He pulled out the palm pilot again.  
“-So I can actually talk to him in real time. I haven’t been able to do that before and I wanted to try it out.”  
“Mr Bell-“  
“I know he’s busy or whatever,” Alex quickly defended, “but he’s the only other person I really know here and I just think we should talk. I want to make sure he’s okay.”  
“He’s perfectly fine, I can assure you,” Morris insisted, “but he is not currently up to seeing visitors. If you’d like, I will let you know as soon as he is.”  
“When will that be?” Alex frowned.  
“As soon as possible, if only to appease what I know will become an annoyance from your end.”  
Alex’s face went red and he lowered his eyes. Morris put a hand on his shoulder and began to lead him back to the elevator.  
“If loneliness is becoming a problem I can always organize for Marcus Miller to make an appearance,” he offered, “it would certainly help us to keep him onsite.”  
“No it’s fine,” Alex assured, knowing Mark would hate that, “I’m not lonely I’m just worried.”  
“About Taylor?”  
“Yeah, and the others.”  
“You’re sure we can’t help by maybe providing some people to talk to or…?”  
“No I don’t like people,” Alex insisted, “it’s fine.”  
They made it to the elevator and the guard stepped aside so that Morris could press for Alex’s level.  
“Then we’ll talk later,” Morris assured, “good day Mr Bell.”  
Alex didn’t respond, but got into the elevator as expected. Once he was gone Morris eyed the guard.  
“Don’t let him down here again,” he scorned before returning to work.

Taylor stood and immediately went to the wall when he saw them coming for him. It was showtime.  
The soldier came straight for him as usual and the chains went on. Taylor had had a mild hope that if he’d been ready for them they might relent and let him leave his hands in front, but they still weren’t taking any chances.  
Once outside the cell the soldier began to pull him away before a sudden thud hit one of the cell doors. They both stopped in their tracks and looked back to see one set of clones in the middle of a fistfight. Taylor was surprised the thud had even come through the soundproofing.  
“Беда!” the soldier shoved Taylor aside while calling for help.  
Just as Taylor hoped, it was the guard leading into the further cells that came to his aid. Taylor couldn’t run while wearing the shackles but he was in just the right position to back into Kane and Joseph’s cell and unhinge the bolt holding it locked. The soldier playing escort was back at his side once the other was able to get into the cell to break up the fight, and Taylor could hear him yelling Russian at them through the slit the door remained open. All three sat on the bed to recover but none of them had their heads down.  
Once the second soldier was out of the cell and had bolted it shut again, the both of them led Taylor toward the bloodwork room. Neither of them looked back. The second soldier waited at the door until Taylor’s shackles had been safely removed and he’d been strapped into the chair. The doctor waited aside patiently. There was no sign of the woman. Once Taylor was in the chair the second soldier took his leave, closing the door behind him as the doctor approached.  
“Wasn’t I supposed to be having a procedure today?” Taylor’s brow rose, looking between the two in the room, “that lady said I had to be cleaned up for it.”  
“Calm,” the doctor insisted, trying to find the vein in his arm.  
Taylor’s eyes went to the door. It was possible that neither of these two spoke enough English for him to get his point across. He just hoped not enough blood would be taken before something happened.  
He didn’t have to wait long. The first vial barely started to fill before a commotion could be heard outside the room. The soldier’s hand went to his baton as he opened the door to check just in time to see blond hair go flying past.  
“Закрой дверь!” the doctor exclaimed.  
The soldier gave him a condescending look before stepping through and closing the door behind him. Taylor cursed him in his head, wanting to see anything he could. He could already hear shouting but their hearing range was limited.   
The doctor set the first vial aside and was preparing the second when the door opened again. Expecting it to be the soldier returning, the doctor didn’t look up until Taylor visibly jumped. One of the clones had a rifle aimed in the doctor’s direction as two more came into the room.  
“Hurry!” one hissed, coming straight for Taylor’s restraints.  
“Are you guys okay?” Taylor’s eyes darted between them.  
“We’ll be better if we can get out of here,” the one to his left insisted.  
Taylor hated that he couldn’t tell them apart. He didn’t know if either one helping him was one he’d spoken to back in the cells. But he didn’t have time to dwell on it. The moment the straps were loosened he slid from the table and followed them through the door. The clone with the rifle closed and locked the door behind them leaving the doctor inside unharmed.  
“This way,” one of them took hold of Taylor’s arm to direct him through the further cells.

“Confirm your position.”  
“North-East corner. I see three guards and a van.”  
“Confirmed. Two minute warning, we’re going in. Radios out in one.”  
“Roger that.”  
He could see his comrades at the corner of the building, taking up post either side of a back entrance. One of them ducked back as a Russian soldier passed by unawares, before signalling his readiness to the group.

Her eyes were large and dark, so dark that he couldn’t see her pupils. Her hair was clearly falling out in patches. What he could see of her skin was covered in bleeding lesions. She stared back at him with a look he’d never seen before in his life.   
“We can’t help her.”  
He very suddenly snapped out of it when a hand again took hold of his arm. He looked down at one of the clones.  
“Come on Mr Hanson!”  
He looked toward the door where a few of the clones had already made it. He was just about to move when an alarm suddenly sounded off. The clones visually began to panic, and Taylor sprinted to catch up to them. Two of them were struggling with the bolt on the door and he quickly stepped in to unhook it for them. Remembering how weak his last Russian stay had made him, he hadn’t thought twice about helping. Once he had it off they helped him open the door and he led them through into some kind of plumbing corridor that ran behind the cells. An obvious exit door sat halfway down and without stopping to check that all seven clones were behind him he darted through.  
Out in the cold night air he was greeted with blinding light and the sound of guns arming. He used an arm to shield his eyes in order to see who he was facing, before quickly turning back to close the door behind him. Only two clones had made it out.  
“Руки вверх!” he could hear the shouts behind him.  
“What?” one of the clones’ eyes went wide.   
“I don’t know what they’re saying but just do whatever they want!” Taylor insisted, squinting through the light as he put his hands on his head.  
The two clones copied him and Taylor soon felt rough hands on his shoulders forcing him down onto his knees. Finally out of the glare of the lights, his breath caught in his throat when he saw just how many soldiers had converged on them.  
The Russians had been far more prepared than he’d given them credit for.

“Yes?” Walker answered the phone apprehensively.  
He ignored the stare from the agent barely a few feet away and kept his eyes down. The communication lasted mere seconds.  
“I understand. Thank you.”  
He ended the call and handed the phone back before again being escorted out. Once outside he was driven back to his hotel, and he waited until he was back in his room before turning on his cell phone and dialling Morris’ number.  
“Walker,” his voice came through.  
“The operation was unsuccessful,” Walker kept his voice steady.  
“I’m sorry to hear that. Do you know what went wrong?”  
“It was the wrong compound. They weren’t there.”  
“I see. Where do you go from here?”  
“There are other compounds they will scope out, but they will have to wait while their security measures are at a high. They know we’re trying now.”  
“They certainly would. Let me know if it looks like your little helpers will ever be successful.”  
Morris ended the call before Walker could.   
“I don’t hear of you doing anything about it,” Walker muttered, throwing the phone aside.

Morris returned his cell phone to his pocket and nodded as he passed a security guard in the hall. He made his way down to the very far end where a guard stood aside a door, used his ID card to unlock it, and stepped through. The room was small but sterile. Fluorescent lighting lit every surface.   
Morris nodded to the nurse working on her computer to the right before approaching the cell to the left. It almost mirrored Evan’s with its thick black bars and small bathroom facilities, but the locks were digital rather than an old padlock with chains.   
“How is our favorite patient doing today?” Morris asked the nurse while rolling the cuffs of his lab coat.  
“Still not talking,” she replied absently, “but the bio work is coming along nicely.”  
“Good, good.”  
He sighed as he stared into the cell at the clone’s back. A large square of skin was missing from his left shoulder and he was visibly shivering from the pain of the raw wound. Countless other scars covered him.  
“Parle moi, Keandre,” Morris insisted.  
Keandre barely turned to look over his shoulder.  
“Go fuck yourself,” was his accented response.


End file.
